


stretch this shaking mind

by ohmcgee



Series: little beasts [84]
Category: DCU (Comics), Impulse (Comics), The Flash (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-21
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-09-01 05:51:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8611171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmcgee/pseuds/ohmcgee
Summary: Even killers need rules.





	

Sometimes, Max finds out, the only way get Bart to settle is to put a knife in his hand and a body in front of him and set him free. 

The first one’s a rapist, a child molester, and a handful of other shit that means he deserves the attention of every torture device in Max’s arsenal. Bart’s buzzing after they drug the man and throw him in trunk. He taps his foot on the floor and his fingers on the dash and asks _how much longer_ every mile, nearly climbs in Max’s lap when Max tells him he can have first blood as long as he’s _good._

See, even killers need rules. Everyone needs structure, needs _discipline_ \-- or else the world really truly would go to hell. Every killer, every junkie and thief and bastard and sonofabitch Max knows has a code. Bart’s different. Sometimes Max thinks hell is exactly what Bart lived before Max found him, that he’s got demons living under his skin and the only way he can get ‘em out is by letting them loose on someone else. 

It’s Max’s job to make sure Bart follows the rules. It’s his job to watch for that spark in Bart’s eye, the twitch in his fingers when it’s been too long and if he doesn’t --

Well, that’s why they’ve changed their named eighteen times in ten months. That’s why Bart’s hair has been every color of the rainbow, long and shaved and everything in between, why they can never, ever go back to Tulsa. It’s the reason Max wakes up in cold sweats some nights and gets up just to make sure Bart’s asleep in his bed, not strapped to a chair in a prison room somewhere getting potassium chloride shot into his veins. 

“Max,” Bart says when the man starts coming to in the basement. Max is still checking all the knots on the ropes he used to tie him up, something Bart’s too impulsive for. If it was up to Bart he’d probably just hack their legs off and cut off their tongue to keep them from screaming or running. He doesn’t understand that they bleed out quicker that way. Max is trying to teach him patience; it’s not going very well. “Max, he’s awake. Can I? Can I play with him _now_?”

“Yes, Bart,” Max says, checking the last knot and putting a couple of strips of duct tape over the man’s mouth. Max sees the fear in his eyes right before he turns away and looks at Bart. “Did you put down all the plastic?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Bart says, rolling his eyes. “Just like you said.”

“Oh, really?” Max asks, arching his eyebrow and pointing to the wall. 

“Ugh,” Bart groans. “The wall? That’s stupid. I --”

“You,” Max says, grabbing Bart by the chin. “Are still messy. Tarp the wall, then you can play.”

“I hate you,” Bart grumbles as he grabs the plastic and starts unrolling it. 

“Mm,” Max says, grabbing the other end of the tarp and nailing his side to the wall. “Be nice or I’ll take my toys away.”

“Fine,” Bart grumbles, nailing his side in then moving to the opposite wall, then looks at Max and says, “Sorry.”

One day he’ll learn that all of the preparation is necessary, not just something Max makes him do to torture him. Max isn’t holding his breath for it though.

 

: : :

 

Max reads a book in the corner while Bart plays. He barely even registers the sound of the drill, the sound of bones and teeth breaking, all the little happy noises Bart makes. It’s nothing but white noise to him anymore. He’s read five chapters by the time Bart finally comes up to him, blood on his chin and the tip of his nose, matting up his wild mop of hair in places. 

There’s always something special about Bart after a job like this and Max knows it makes him even more fucked up than the kid standing in front of him covered in someone else’s blood, but Bart’s always so calm afterward, so _beautiful_ , and every single time he asks Max, “ _Did I do good?_ ” 

And every single time Max pulls him down in his lap, takes the rag from his front pocket and wipes the blood off of Bart’s face and says, “Yes, Bart. You did so good.”

Then he scoops Bart up and carries him upstairs to his room, then goes back down and cleans up the mess Bart made. 

After he disposes of the body, Max marks the date on the calendar and they start all over again.


End file.
